A Chance Meeting
by FireOpal
Summary: Take one Time Lord. Blow up his planet. Take one human. Blow up his planet. Add them together. Oh, and a bottle or two of alcohol... HHGTTG and Doctor Who 9th Doctor.


**FireOpal's Comments:- **OK, this is the work of a strange mind. I will be doing no other HHGTTG fics as I'm not really interested, by this idea caught me, and I was interested. Don't sue me, I've only read the first book in the series, and I know the TV serial better. I have no idea what happens after they end up on Earth, but here they are on some random planet (Ford and Arthur), and a friend appears. Doctor Who-wise, it is set before 'Rose'.

**Disclaimer**:- I own neither 'Doctor Who' (sighs wistfully) or anything related, or 'The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy' (phew!). It's not mine, don't sue.

**Summary:-** Take one Time Lord. Blow up his planet. Take one human. Blow up _his _planet. Add them together. Oh, and a bottle or two of alcohol…

**A Chance Meeting.**

Arthur took another swig of the half-empty bottle clutched limply in his left hand, barely wincing at the strong, alien flavour. Ha, everything was alien now. All alien, even him. His eyes were half-lidded, and he was sitting hunched, still dressed in the increasingly tatty dressing gown and pyjamas that was his one set of clothes, on a metal step on some world. He didn't know where he was, Ford would come along later and drag him home. For now, he was content to sit here and be miserable. And drunk.

Another figure walked up, similarly outfitted with a three quarter empty bottle of alcohol, swaying slightly as he walked slowly along the corridor. He was wearing a leather jacket that hung loosely on his frame, and he sat down onto the step next to Arthur, leaning his arms on his knees and cradling the bottle in dextrous fingers.

"Do you mind?" Arthur said as cuttingly as he could manage. "I'm trying to get drunk here."

"Hey, there's plenty of room." the stranger said, looking at him with blue-green eyes. Arthur took a long look at the face - pale, chiselled with black hair in a buzz cut - and looked away, taking another swig. And frowned. Taking the bottle from his lips, he frowned at it, turned it upside down and shook it over the floor. One precious drop of the thin liquid fell to the floor with a splash that seemed rather depressing to the human.

Suddenly, another bottle appeared in his vision, attached to a leather-coated arm. He took it wordlessly, swigged a mouthful and passed it back.

"I'm Arthur. Arthur Dent." he said. The other man extended his arm to shake Arthur's'.

"I'm the Doctor. Just the Doctor." Arthur nodded, and returned to stare unseeing into space. He sighed heavily, and rubbed at his grainy eyes with a hand. It had been ages since he had slept, really slept. Images of the Earth blowing into a million tiny pieces weren't exactly the most sleep-inducing images he could think of.

"Where you from then? I haven't seen you round here?" Arthur said eventually, turning to his drinking-companion.

"Here, there everywhere." the man replied vaguely, the skin around his eyes tightening. Arthur nodded at this pitiful answer. "You?"

"A planet you've never heard of." Arthur said in a depressed tone of voice. "Where the new hyperspace bypass is."

"Earth? You're human?" The Doctor asked curiously. Arthur nodded, and looked at him in semi-drunken confusion.

"You know, knew it?"

"Yeah," the Doctor replied, "been there a few times. Good planet, great marine wildlife."

"Yeah," Arthur replied bitterly. "Gone now though, just so some crummy aliens can get from A to C faster. Ha, and I thought it was bad that the council wanted to knock my house down for a bypass. Ironic."

"Definitely." the Doctor said, taking another swig of his bottle. "Stupid aliens. Wait, I am one. Stupid other aliens."

"You're an alien?" the human asked indifferently. His companion nodded.

"Gallifreyan, but you won't have heard of us. We don't exist any more."

"Oh. What happened?" The Doctor tensed, but eventually relaxed, and replied.

"There was a war. Destroyed my planet, my people, everything. I'm the only one left." his voice was curt, but Arthur understood the emotion.

"Ditto, well, save for Trillian, but I'm not sure about her. She's practically Betelgeusian anyway, what with hanging round Zaphod so much." There was a long silence, in which the bottle was passed to and fro between the too survivors.

"It sucks, doesn't it?" Arthur said conversationally. "To know you're the last - no more Kleenex, no more McDonalds, no more stupid commercials that go on for about 10 minutes and are so annoying you'll never buy the ruddy product anyway."

"Yeah, sure does." the Doctor replied quietly. His own blue-green eyes were staring into space, watching his planet, his Gallifrey burn under the weapons of the Daleks. Gone, never to come back. Caught in a time loop, which messed up the time continuum to an extent that Gallifrey and its inhabitants were wiped from existence, him, the lone survivor.

"How long's it been for you?" Arthur said, finally turning to face the Time Lord. The Doctor glanced at him for a second before he replied.

"Time's irrelevant, but maybe, in your terms, 6 months?" Arthur's face crinkled in sympathy.

"It gets better you know, after the first 6. You just have to take your mind off it."

"I know." was all he responded with. There was another pause, then the Doctor passed Arthur the nearly finished bottle and stood up.

"Thanks." he said, and walked off. Arthur watched him walk down the corridor, and took a swig from the bottle, before falling slowly back onto the step as he started to lose consciousness. The last thing he heard was an odd whirring noise, and he frowned slightly. Then he was asleep, snoring slightly, curled around the bottle. And that was how a tired Ford Prefect found his friend the next morning.


End file.
